


Panic Room, Holy Fire

by Diary



Series: Stolen Bone [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 06, Awkwardness, Bechdel Test Fail, Families of Choice, Friendship/Love, Gen, Late Night Conversations, POV Male Character, POV Soulless Sam Winchester, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Post-Season/Series 05 AU, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 20:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11169639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: Repost. AU. Set in season 6, Soulless Sam figures out Castiel's made an alliance with Crowley. Complete.





	Panic Room, Holy Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural.

Sam can remember events more clearly than ever, but he can’t remember the feelings behind them, and the thoughts propelled by feelings are hard to translate.

He remembers Dean carrying him after he was almost too big to be carried, despite the fact he was perfectly able to walk. He remembers Dean giving him more food than he needed; he can see now Dean did need the food, but he gave it to him, anyways. He remembers the Christmas he gave Dean the amulet is the first time he realised the presents Dean gave him on certain holidays and on his birthday were stolen.

From what he can tell, he used to be rather emotional.

Dean used to get exasperated, insult him, and sometimes yell. _Stop being a girl, Sammy. What did you expect? If you don’t stop crying, I’m going to break your nose._

Now, Dean is constantly talking about his feelings and hugs more often than he ever did in the past.

Sam thinks it would be easier to deal with past Dean, and he has something akin to sympathy for their father and the Dean of the past for having to deal with past him.

However, the results are undeniable: Dean achieves more desirable outcomes than Sam can alone.

Fewer humans die, and as a result, there’s less of a chance of getting on law enforcement radar. Dean can extract information better, faster, and with less risk of bodily injury from humans, and sometimes, even monsters, than Sam can.

Thankfully, Dean has decided he wants honesty, and Sam is glad for the reprieve of always having to debate and so carefully choose his words. However, he realises Dean can only take so much. He needs someone to care for him the way Sam apparently once did.

When getting food, he makes sure to remember the pie, and if Dean is still hungry, he lies he isn’t and hands over his leftovers. He brings coffee and lets Dean have the first shower as Dean used to do for him when they were younger. Instead of leaving at night, he pulls a Castiel and stays in the room to make sure Dean is okay while asleep.

Castiel once called him an abomination. He’s warned him not to hurt Dean. Sam suspects he even appears some nights and watches both of them.

Sam can’t understand feelings, but he can see motivations better than ever. He can often detect deceit.

There’s a war going on in Heaven, and Castiel is doing shady things to try to win it. He’s doing things he doesn’t want Dean to know about.

Handing Dean a beer, he says, “Question, big brother. Before I ask, though, let me warn you that I’m not going to let you break my nose.”

Giving him a strange look, Dean agrees, “Okay, Sammy.”

Sam takes this as a good sign. Dean only calls him ‘Sammy’ when he forgets about Sam’s lack of soul. “Dude, you like both. Men and women. I’ve always known, and from what I can understand, I never said anything because I thought you’d react badly.”

“What,” is Dean’s response. His laugher shows he’s near hysteria, and his fists are clenching. “Sam-”

“No, seriously, back when we were dealing with that siren, I wanted you and Nick to hook up. I promise you, I had no clue he was the siren. It wasn’t one of those plans of using you for bait. We were going through so much, and I thought you having a good lay would temporarily, I don’t know, stabilise the tension between us.”

Dean lets out a breath. “We don’t talk about this.”

“What, so, you knew that I knew?”

“I’m sure there’s a lot you and Bobby know. We aren’t talking about this,” Dean repeats with a strong current of desperation in his voice.

Aside from hunting, Bobby isn’t interesting to Sam. He’s so domestic.

Looking back, however, Sam can see certain conversations they’ve had in a different light. Neither of them ever said it, but apparently, they both wanted Dean to be more comfortable in his own skin.

He leans back in his chair and prepares to protect himself if necessary. “Dean, you’re in love with Castiel. He’s in love with you. And my life would be so much easier if I didn’t have to deal with the ridiculous dance you do around one another.”

“Wh- Cas isn’t- I’m not-” He jumps up. “I’m going out. You better be sane when I come back.”

“Perfectly sane.” He sticks his foot out. As Dean manages to catch himself, he asks, “Is this about Dad? Or-”

“Sammy, why are you bringing this up, now?”

“I told you, I’m tired of you and Cas dancing around. Before Hell, I was also tired of it, but I wanted to give you- I was afraid I’d eventually have to confront you, but I hoped you’d tell me on your own. I didn’t want a big speech. I just wanted you to see a man in a bar and make a comment about how attractive you found him, maybe tell me to get lost for the night, or drag me around on Valentine’s day, looking for the perfect gift for Cas because you’d admitted that you’re stupidly head-over-heels.”

For a long moment, there’s silence.

“I don’t understand- you don’t- you didn’t- I-”

“Care? I cared, Dean. I couldn’t have cared less if it was a guy or a girl who was responsible for me having to hide out in the car, but I cared that it mattered to you.”

“And- and now?” Dean stands still and looks at Sam closely.

“And now, I’m tired of the damn dance,” he repeats. “This isn’t going to affect your hunting ability. You being happy might even make you better.”

This, he discovers, when his book crashes on his foot, is the trigger.

Dean jumps and mutters curses under his breath.

Sam takes stock of the situation. There are no cold spots or sulphur. It must be either Crowley or Cas, and ironically, the former wouldn’t be so petty. He wonders how long someone’s been abusing their angel powers to spy.

Bending down and testing the legs of the table, he asks, “Do we have a matchbook?”

Cas is smart enough to take the out, and once the now wobbly leg is taken care of, Sam says, “I’m hungry. Let’s get some burgers.”

…

“So, uh. How long?”

“Since we were kids,” Sam answers. Putting ketchup on his burger, he adds, “I tried to talk to you, you locked me in a closet, and I never brought it up since.”

Dean winces. “Sorry. That wasn’t-”

“Dude, soulless,” Sam reminds him. “I don’t care about you or Dad hitting me, anymore. Or anything else you both did.”

“That’s disturbing,” Dean informs him. “Okay, fine. You know. I know you know. You know I know you know. Cas probably knows, but that ain’t the kind of conversation I’m going to have with him ever.”

“He knows you’re in love-”

“I’m not- What in the hell do you know about love, anyways?”

“Honestly? Not much. I can’t feel it. But profound bond? The way he always comes when you call? The way the two of you stare at each other?”

“We do not stare,” Dean grits out. “He’s our friend. He may not like you much, but he cared about Sammy with a soul. He and I- we’re just closer, that’s all. Best friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam says. “What are you scared of? Him backing off, or him returning your feelings? You know things are over for good with Lisa.”

Bobby calls with a case before Dean is forced to answer.

…

Dean is mad because Sam _didn’t_ have any problems dispatching a killer clown.

Sighing, Sam starts to clean the gash on his cheek and tries to puzzle out why he used to be so scared of them.

There’s a rustle of wings and trench coat, and he greets, “Hey, Castiel.”

“Sam. Are you up to something? Dean believes you’re up to something.”

“Don’t you have a war going on, Cas?”

“Yes.”

Standing up, Sam turns around. “I’m not the one working with Crowley. Don’t deny it. I stole one of the bones and had it DNA tested. Crowley’s still alive. You wouldn’t have made such a mistake. You’re losing the war, and you think Crowley’s your best shot.”

“Does Dean know?”

“No,” Sam answers. “But he will, soon. Here’s how it is, Cas: Even if you succeed, the price will be too high. I mean, it probably wouldn’t be for me, but for you? Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“You don’t understand-”

“Here’s what I know: The best hunters are those who have something worth fighting for. It kills a lot of them, makes them do stupid things, but those who can avoid that, they’re the best. Moreover, the very best are the ones who know exactly what they’re fighting for. Do you know what you’re fighting for? Really?”

Cas doesn’t answer.

“See, I think you do. You’re willing to sacrifice almost everything to bring free will to your angelic brethren. You want to be the father that God isn’t. But the thing is, you rebelled for my brother. You fell in every sense of the way, didn’t you, Castiel? And when you’re up there fighting, in the back of your mind, you’re thinking of the day you can win and lessen the constant danger Dean lives in. Maybe, once you win, he’ll be so proud of you, for bringing about what he told you was so important.”

“This is all true,” Cas acknowledges.

“Yeah, well, Dean’s going to pissed when he finds out you’re working with Crowley. And if I cared, I’d say he’s right. Crowley can and will screw you over. Tell him what you’ve done, let him yell, and then, find a way to fix things. Get rid of Crowley, and find some other way to win your war.”

“No.”

He scoffs. “This isn’t me asking. You tell him, or I do.”

“I can-”

“What? Mess with my head? Go ahead, Cas. I’ve got several plans in place. If neither of us tells him, he’s still going to find out soon enough. Then- well, he can barely stand to be in the same room with me, but I’m still wearing his brother’s body. I’m the closest thing to Sammy he has. How’s he going to react to you messing with me like that?”

Cas gives him a look he knows would have worked on him when he had a soul. It’d work on Dean. All it does, now, is make him think Cas looks ridiculous.

Finally, the look goes away. “Why are you doing this, Sam? What are you up to?”

“Looking out for my own self interests.” Reaching over for his towel and rubbing it over his face, he elaborates, “When this deal with Crowley falls through, Dean’s going to suffer. Everyone, even soulless people, needs a sense of purpose. Mine’s hunting. And it turns out that I need him to be my best at that.”

“Dean is determined to get your soul back.”

“If he manages, souled me will be freaking ecstatic that you and he are working so closely together. I- he- whatever did always think the two of you were good together. I was jealous sometimes, but I was happy he’d found someone other than me and Bobby.”

There’s a rustle, and Cas is gone.

…

Dean storms in.

“I can’t-” Letting out a stream of curses, Dean kicks his bed. “That- Sam, what’s the best way to gank an angel?”

“I’d suggest trapping them in holy fire and throwing an angel blade,” he answers. Setting his pen down, he asks, “Which one do we want to kill?”

“Cas!”

“Wait,” he says. “Are you calling for Cas, or do-”

“Both! Castiel, get your feathery ass back down here right now! Sam,” he demands, “how long have you known?”

“Known?”

“About Crowley!”

“Since three days ago. I suspected, but I didn’t know. And no, I wasn’t going to tell you unless I knew for sure.”

“And yet, you didn’t tell me three days ago!”

“Because I meant what I said. You’re pissed, which I knew you would be. But be honest, I wasn’t wrong about what I said. However much you want to hurt him, you don’t want to kill him. We need to help him. He’s family, isn’t he, and that’s what you keep saying is so important, isn’t it?”

There’s more incoherent stuttering, and at one point, the manager knocks on the door and threatens to call the police if they don’t stop tearing up the room.

Dean calms down enough to slip outside.

Cas appears.

“This is just a wild guess, but I’m guessing he didn’t take it well?”

At Cas’s tilted head, he sighs. “Yes, Castiel, that was sarcasm. But it’ll be fine. I’m not going to let him gank you.”

“I feel I ought to appreciate that more than I do.”

Dean reappears.

Unfortunately, Bobby calls with another case.

…

He wonders why modern day mad scientists can’t be more along the lines of Einstein and Telsa. No, instead, they’re yuppies who thought addictive coffee with the side effect of causing people to go into seizures if they went for more than three hours without it was a wonderful idea to help save their favourite café.

“I want out,” Dean calls from inside the panic room.

“Dean, do you still plan to scalp Bobby?”

There’s a long pause.

“I don’t have to answer that!”

One bizarre side effect of the treatment for the coffee addiction is an inability to lie.

“I’ll order you some food,” he says. “What do you want?”

“Cas,” is the forlorn answer. “He never spends any time with me that doesn’t have to do with cases, anymore.”

There’s a rustle. “Dean, you have to understand-”

“Wait,” Sam interrupts. “Cas, get out here. We don’t know that he isn’t going to find some way to trap or expel you. Until the treatment’s done, you talk to him out here. I’ll go talk to Bobby.”

Cas appears next to Sam.

“If he wants food, you slide it through the hatch,” he orders. “I mean it, he stays in, and we all stay out until this wears off.”

“I’m frigging chained up in here!”

“If he needs help eating, you come and get me and Bobby.”

“That wasn’t my point!”

“I understand,” Cas agrees.

…

“What are you up to, Sam?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” He starts a pot of tea. He’d prefer coffee, but he doesn’t know how the smell might affect Dean.

Fragile little Dean, he needs so much protecting, he thinks with the disgust coming out in full force.

“Because, you’re always up to something,” Bobby snaps. “Now, soul or not, boy, I love you, but to hell if I’m going to let you-”

“Okay, Bobby. What am I doing wrong? Not talking to Dean before I confirmed my suspicions? Getting Cas to admit to the stupid mess that he’s gotten himself into? Or is it about me trying to get them to get a clue? I can respect and even understand your desire not to touch that subject, but you don’t spend almost twenty-four hours with Dean for days on end.”

“Wait, what?”

Bobby sits down, and Sam explains, “Yeah, his rambling about being just as good of a man as you and dad and the barbed comments about my haircut? I’m pretty sure that was his who knows how many-ith freak-out. I pointed out he’s in love with Cas and that the feeling’s mutual.”

“Why didn’t you call me,” Bobby demands. “That’s a delicate subject. You can’t just spring that on your brother!”

“Uh, Bobby-”

“It’s my job to look out for both of you. If you think it’s time he got his head out of his ass, you call me, and I play the bad guy.”

“I thought you’d want to stay as far out of this as possible.”

“I would,” Bobby admits. He gets up to pour the tea. “I kept hoping it’d never have to come to this. Dumb, if you ask me, having to tell someone it’s okay to like someone. I wish I could have met that Jess gal of yours. I wish he’d invited that boy in his senior class over.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“That blue eyed boy who you forced him to partner up with in science.”

“Darwin Fisher? Really?”

“Oh, yeah. Looks like your brother has a type when it comes to both.”

“Huh.” He takes a sip of his tea. “Still, you’d have hated having Jessica or Darwin over.”

“Of course, I would have. But it’s my job.” He pauses. “Ah, crap. Sam, what are you up to? Cas is working with Crowley, and you’re trying to set Dean up with him?”

“They were doing this stupid dance long before Cas joined up with Crowley. From what I understand, secrets and lies aren’t conducive to a good relationship. I’m just trying to bring everything out so that they can deal.”

“Is that really all?”

“Yes,” he insists. “Look, Bobby, I don’t actually care, but souled me did and would. And this me? Like I told Dean, him being happier might make him a better hunter. I also told Cas that the best fighters are the ones who have something worth fighting for.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Cas appears. “Dean’s no longer suffering from the poisoned coffee.”

“Cas, did you heal him? I told you-”

“No, I didn’t,” Cas answers. “We talked about Crowley. He’s rather angry. Goodbye.”

…

“We’re still getting your soul back.”

 He continues doing push-ups. “Okay. Things better between you and Cas?”

“I don’t know.” Dean sighs. “Crowley? He’s working with a frigging demon? The angel who couldn’t even get it up in a den of iniquity is in bed with the King of Hell? Did they kiss? Never mind- that’s not the important part. He’s working with Crowley, and I’m just supposed to be okay with that?”

“It sounds like there’s a ‘but’.”

“But we’re terrible friends. I-”

“Objection,” Sam interrupts. “Remember, first, second, and third thing I did was call him? He never answered.”

He doesn’t feel true offence, but it does irritate him somewhat. He does more selfless things now than he did when he had a soul. While the end result is trying to ensure his own health and survival, he works hard to keep his allies happy and healthy.

Using Dean as vampire bait wasn’t good. It wasn’t a mistake, and he doesn’t regret it. He knows he’d have done worse than Dean did if someone did it to him. However, he can’t see it as a terrible betrayal. He knew he and Dean could handle it and make progress.

Other than the above incident, he’s done more than the old him ever would have done without outside provocation.

“He’s right,” Dean says. “I never stopped to think about him-”

“Yes, you did. Apart from me, you missed him the most.”

“Are you going to let me talk about my feelings, or are you going to keep interrupting me?” Before Sam can answer, he continues, “And we’re forever ignoring the first part of that sentence.”

He switches to sit ups. “You tell me when you’re done, and then, I talk.”

“This is Cas,” Dean says. “He’s being a child. Working with Crowley. How- what- does that even make any damn sense?”

Dean looks expectantly at him.

“Is that my cue to speak?”

“Yeah, knock yourself out.”

“You already know what’s going on, dude. Cas has been overwhelmed, and without you as his moral compass- which, incidentally, even with my now sketchy ethics, I can recognise how disturbing that is. Nevertheless, you know what- listen to him moan and complain and tell you exactly how screwed up everything is. Then, tell him why working with Crowley is a bad, bad idea. Offer to help him. You, me, Bobby, we’re there for him. Just make it clear that he can either accept our help or keep working with Crowley and lose all our numbers. He can’t have both.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

He expects Dean to leave, but Dean keeps sitting there. “Crowley can do more for him.”

“Crowley can and will destroy him and everyone he cares about if given the opportunity. This is the opportunity. We’re not even surprised he’s alive, are we? Because, of course, he is. Even without an angel on his side, of course, he is.”

“Right. Good talk.” Starting to leave, Dean says, “Look, Cas, when you have time, me and you are overdue for a chat.”

…

Cas appears while they’re trying to get a psychic baby away from a shapeshifter.

Sam isn’t sure if this falls into the ‘perfect’ or ‘terrible’ timing.

“Cas, can you help?”

“A better question is where in-” Dean starts.

“No, my question is definitely the better one.”

For his part, Cas kneels down, locks eyes with the baby’s, and his eyes briefly glow.

Suddenly, the baby is curled up asleep, and the shapeshifter is running to them and transforming mid-run.

…

“I’m getting too old for this.”

“I’m getting too tired for this,” Sam retorts. “I’m guessing restraining Dean to the bed in the panic room and trapping Cas in a ring of holy fire in there with him is one of the things I’m not allowed to do?”

So far, the rules are: No sleeping with, kissing, or even holding hands with married women. No using people for bait unless it’s talked about and agreed on. No known engaged women and/or women who say they have boyfriends. No using monsters for bait unless it’s talked about and agreed on. It doesn’t matter if the age of consent is below eighteen, he will make damn sure he doesn’t sleep with anyone under the age of eighteen; in fact, if they’re still in high school or their first year of college, he’s not to sleep with them. No dogs, cats, or Nancy Drew books in the Impala (obviously, there’s a story there, but Dean refuses to elaborate).

“I can appreciate the urge, son,” Bobby tells him. “But no. Dean has to be his own man, even if your daddy screwed that up for both of you.”

Cas and Dean appear.

“We’re helping Cas,” Dean announces.

“And the other thing-”

“Sam, don’t make me gank you, because at this point, I’m very close.”

“What did I do?”  

“I believe you-” Cas starts.

“Are you three done being ijits?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answers.

Cas simply tilts his head.

“Where do we start, Bobby,” Sam inquires.

…

Dean and Cas aren’t together.

Sam is starting to think this is a good thing.

Cas is extremely powerful and considers himself righteous. Dean is human and has self-loathing and self-identity issues. Even with Cas occasionally doing stupid things and bad things such as letting souled Sam out of the panic room, Dean considers Cas to be too righteous to ever be more than an ally and semi-friend.

He concentrates on hunting and helping capture Raphael supporters.

Whether they’re tortured, tricked, or just bribed with Bobby’s cookies, he doesn’t know, but information starts piling in. Dean refuses to let him be a part of anything but the trapping aspect, Cas fully approves, and for all Sam knows, it’s his request responsible for Dean laying down the law.

…

“Sam, let me out of here!”

“Dean, are you going to call Lisa and ask her to marry you?”

“No, of course not. C’mon, man, I was stupid and under-”

“Oh, good, then, the fact I returned the ring and burned your bridal magazines-”

Dean screams, orders him to do things Sam doubts even a demon or angel could physically manage, and there’s a crash inside.

He peeks in and sees Dean is still strapped to the now sideways table. “Sorry, Dean. If you want to marry Lisa and play Daddy to Ben- I’m not going to let you kill her new boyfriend to do it. Or spend three thousand dollars on an engagement ring.”

“It was my money!”

“Sam,” Cas greets.

Rolling his eyes, Sam closes the peephole and turns around. “Dean’s a little busy with a love spell gone wrong, Cas. I don’t think angel trapping is on the menu tonight.”

“I know. I came to talk to you alone.”

“Alright, first, put the bed upright, and if you can, either make him go to sleep or mute. He’s going to ruin his vocal chords and his wrists and ankles if he doesn’t give it a rest.”

Less than two seconds later, Cas is back. “He’s peacefully fishing. We need pie for when he wakes up.”

“Right,” Sam says. He calls and leaves a voicemail for Bobby.

…

“You don’t want your soul back.”

“True.” He catches a woman’s eye. Attractive, no wedding ring or male companion, and definitely over eighteen, he takes note.

“Go,” Cas orders. “Heaven needs me. We can talk after you’re done.”

“Thanks, Cas. You’re a true gentleman and scholar.” Standing up, he clasps Cas’s shoulder.

…

When he gets back to Bobby’s, he finds Dean in the living room. “Who let you out?”

“You _didn’t_ burn the magazines, you dick,” is Dean’s response. “I rectified that. What did you do with my three grand?”

Smirking, he answers, “Ask Bobby, he took it.” At Dean sigh of relief, he asks, “So, snapdragons and tiger lilies? Seriously?”

“It was the damn spell, and I swear, I’ll break both your arms if you bring it up again. Where’s Cas?”

“Heaven, I guess,” he answers. “We didn’t get a chance to talk. We went to the bar, and there was this woman there. Over eighteen, no wedding wing or boyfriend with her, and Cas told me to call him later.”

“What, seriously?”

“The things she could with her-”

“Okay! I don’t need to know anything past: there was a girl, and as far as you can tell, we won’t have to be dealing with a shotgun anytime in the near future.”

“We deal with- Oh, right, you mean because of her.”

“Already, you’re spending too much time with Cas. Speaking of, what did he want?”

“Are you sure you don’t want more details about the girl? I just told you, we went to the bar, I saw her, she saw me, and Cas made himself scarce.”

“And that’s all?”

“Before we left here, I think he mentioned something about you fishing. It’s not a Brokeback thing, is it?”

…

Bobby makes them put all the books back in their proper place.

This would be easier if they had a proper place rather him expecting them to have a photographic memory.

…

“Sam.”

Looking over, he sees Dean is fast asleep. “Hey, Castiel. Ready to continue our conversation?”

“Not in here.”

“Okay.”

He closes his laptop, and they go the living room.

“I want your soul and Adam’s rescued from the cage, but I don’t want it returned to your body.”

“That makes two of us.”

“You want the souls rescued?”

“I don’t care, as long as it’s not put in my body.”

“Your soul deserves its place in heaven. However, I don’t know if that would kill you or not.”

“I’d take death over insanity.”

“Dean believes Death can put up a wall.”

“I don’t trust Death.”

“Nor do I,” Cas answers. “Sam- Dean doesn’t trust me, anymore. If there’s any chance of him forgiving me and regaining that-” He trails off.

Sam sighs. He knows he has to play this carefully. Standing up, he gets a refill on his soda. 

Sitting back down, he says, “Dean doesn’t trust you, because, you were doing the wrong thing. The thing is, Cas, when it comes to me, he has a history of doing the wrong thing. Him going to Lisa and Ben is the first time he’s tried to do the right thing, and that’s part of the reason you didn’t go to him.”

It’d be counterproductive to point out how wrong souled him and Dean both were. Sam doesn’t particularly care for the two, but he wouldn’t wish someone like Dean Winchester on them. Even he can see how and why it ended in heartbreak.

You don’t put a man who’s learned obedience through physical pain since toddlerhood with a mom who’s never so much as spanked her kid, and you especially don’t put a hunter with a yoga instructor and a preteen, he knows. Lisa has a nice little trust fund she’ll pass down to Ben. Their hours are scheduled around baseball, they have parties every year where the biggest possible thing to go wrong is the baker screwing up the cake, salt is primarily for pork chops, potatoes, and maybe tequila when Lisa has the rare girl’s night out, and holy water only makes an appearance when they attend family baptisms.

None of the above mixes well with demons, witches, mad scientists out to save their favourite diner, and everything else.

“What point are you trying to make?”

“Cas, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t know working with Crowley was wrong.”

“I- I can’t.”

“I imagine you and I disagree with what’s right when it comes to a lot of things. There may come a time when we’re truly on opposite sides, Castiel, but here’s the truth: I think everyone, to the best of their ability, should do what they know to be right. I don’t know whether putting my soul back in here is right or not. I just know that I don’t want it. You, though, know that it’s wrong. You and Dean might end up on different sides, too, Cas. That’s what free will is about. You make choices, and you deal with the consequences. From everything I can piece together from before and everything I’ve observed after, it’s sometimes very hard to do the right thing. It doesn’t always end in you being happy and feeling good.”

Leaning back, he continues, “For a long time, I didn’t understand why people didn’t just- Why so many of them strove to do the right thing if it so often ended in sacrifice. I still don’t fully understand, but I’ve seen that, even though good doesn’t necessarily pay unto good, in the end, evil pays unto evil. It’s better to try to avoid that.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“That’s not going to work.”

“It’s not right to go behind his back.”

Shrugging, Sam briefly holds his hands up in surrender. “Do what you have to, Cas.”

…

“We’re angel warding the place,” Dean announces.

“Alright.”

They angel-proof the room.

“Cas thinks we can bind Death.”

“What do you think?”

“You told me that you thought you’d be better with your soul. You said you wanted it back,” Dean emotionally reminds him.

He realises he’s probably going to have to deal with a crying Dean.

“I did. None of it was a lie. However, both Cas and Crowley think it’s a bad idea. Now, one of them, fine. But when they’re both saying, ‘No, doing this will break Sammy,’ guess what, Dean? I have to think there’s a good chance they could be right.”

“Do you know what Cas wants to do with your soul? Adam’s?” 

“Heaven.”

“Adam, he deserves that. He’s dead, his body gone. But you, you’re here, with me.”

“Best case scenario,” Sam says, “we worry for the rest of our lives about the wall, which Death may not be able to put up and may refuse to, breaking. Second best: I’m a vegetable, and you find a way to put me in a comfy hospital for the rest of your life, at least. Worst: I’m homicidal, psychotic, suicidal, or just straight up crazy. You or Bobby get hurt or killed trying to deal with me. Innocent people are hurt or die because I couldn’t be stopped in time. Maybe Dad ends up being right, and you have to kill me.”

“You might die if your soul’s taken to heaven.”

“And I don’t like the thought, but I’m okay with it. I promise, if you get my soul out, I won’t stop Cas from flying it up to heaven.”

“Sam-” Dean looks away and brings his hand up to his face.

“If my soul goes to heaven, do you think they can heal it?”

“I don’t- I don’t know.”

“Ask Cas,” he orders. “If they can, decide what you want. Me suffering, or your brother happy and finally getting what he deserves. Either way, you’re going to lose something. But if my soul goes to heaven and I don’t die, I’ll stay and hunt with you. No using you as bait. Just you and me, on the road, ganking monsters and dealing with emo teenagers and handling whatever other strange crap is out there.”

“Will you stop locking me down in the panic room,” Dean asks with a shuddery breath.

“I promise I’ll only do that when you try to do things like kill Bobby or plan to kill your ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend so that you can marry her in a room full of snapdragons and tiger lilies.”

“Shut up about that, Sam.”

“Seriously, does Cas like either of them? Did Mom? Jo or Ellen?”

“No.” Standing up, he starts to undo the angel wards. “Cas, when you have time, we need to talk about Sammy’s soul.”

…

“Cas, you could die.”

“Even if I’m not there when you perform the ritual, Death will still know I helped you.”

Sam sits quietly.

“That- Look, Cas, here’s how it is: You’re my friend. My family. I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to you for a year, okay? Don’t tell anyone, but there are times I almost prayed to you.”

“I know.”

“You know? What does that mean?”

“I couldn’t hear your thoughts- or rather, I never tried to, as you didn’t want me to, but I often felt as if you were thinking of me.”

“Okay. My point is, what I’m getting at, is that I should have been a better friend to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t. I can’t ask you to do this.” Dean sighs. Before Cas can say anything, he says, “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Cas. About Sam and his soul. I should, but I don’t.”

“What I do know is that I’ve been thinking a lot about my little brother and how much I’ve let him down over the years. Do you know how many people have told me I should want to be a better man for myself? I’ve lost count, Cas. You know, if it weren’t for Sammy and Bobby and you and Ben- if it weren’t for all of you, I’d be so much worse than I am. But the first person, besides my Dad, that I ever wanted to be really proud of me was my baby brother. And hell, I knew even when I was five years old and he said his first word, ‘Dean,’ that I’d end up letting him down.”

“Whether he comes back or goes to heaven, I’m going to work on being someone all of you, especially him, can really be proud of. Part of that is not dragging good people into my problems. You’ve helped me more than I can ever repay you for, Cas, and if I come out of this alive, I’ll help you with your war. Right now, though, you need to leave and stay off Death’s angry list.”

“No,” Cas responds.

Surprised, Sam shifts to look at them.

“This _is_ my problem, Dean. You’ve said we’re family. Well, I feel that way, too. I want to save Sam and Adam. I haven’t been obligated to help you in a long time, Dean, but I always come when you call, because, you are my friend. I care about you and the others.”

“Pride- what a funny, unfathomable emotion that is. I sometimes wonder if it’s always been a weakness of mine. The desire for it, I’m now realising I can understand. Did you know, the first time I remember feeling it, was when I tried to talk to you in that gas station? I alone raised you out of Perdition, rebuilt your body, and made you physically whole again. I don’t think I had any belief I’d survive the mission. For most of us, it was a suicide mission, but it was needed. We all entered without complaint or fear.”

“Cas-”

“You continually surprise me. Maybe there will be a day I stop being surprised, but I doubt I’ll ever lose my admiration for you. You scarified yourself numerous times for those you love. You were the catalyst for an angel rebelling. You averted the apocalypse. How do you make such a person proud?”

“Is this about me or you,” Dean asks.

“I believe it’s about both of us. I’m sorry for turning to Crowley. I’m sorry for letting Sam out of the panic room. I hope you can one day trust me again. However, regardless of whether you can or not, this is about Sam. This is about an innocent soul my brothers and sisters had no right going near. This is about helping my family. You have no right to tell me I shouldn’t put myself in the line of fire for that.”

“I do trust you, Cas,” Dean announces with quiet sincerity.

“Then, let’s stop wasting time and save your brothers.”

“Let me finish. And I am proud of you.”

“Likewise.”

…

“What do you think about all this, Bobby?”

“I’m behind Dean, whatever decision he makes.”

“I’m not trying to get you on my side. I promise. I’m just genuinely curious.”

“Hell if I know,” Bobby answers. “You don’t know how much I miss you, Sam. The souled you. Dean’s- he’s always-”

“Been your boy,” Sam suggests.

“I admit I’ve always been closer to him. However, I’d’ve done anything for you, son. I was so damn happy when John was ranting about you going to college and moving in with some gal. I wanted you to have that normal life and beautiful family and get away from all this. Now, I want you back so badly, but I admit I worry. What if doing this means you come back wrong in ways we can’t fix? Well, I guess we’ll just have to deal with it that if it comes. Knowing our luck, if Dean makes the choice, it probably will.”

“What if he doesn’t? I mean, I doubt he will, but what if he does tell Cas to fly my soul up to heaven?”

“I’ll keep mourning for you and your brother. And if you’re still alive, I’ll keep being there for you unless you give me a reason not to.”

“For what’s worth, I’m sorry I can’t be him. This is just how I am, Bobby. I did try to be the Sam you and Dean loved so much.”

“Just watch out for Dean. Have his back.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “But if I don’t come through, I think you need to seriously consider the panic room, holy fire plan.”

“Which angel are we thinking about trapping in the panic room?”

Sam looks up. “Hey, Dean. Speaking of angels, where’s yours?”

“Up yours,” Dean retorts. “Cas is busy talking to Balthazar.”

“I’m not noticing a denial.”

“Do you boys want to rearrange my spice rack?”

Sam retreats and watches Dean do the same.

“Good. That’s what I thought. Now, Sam, go clean the guns and make sure we’re good on holy water. Dean, you and I are going to talk about a few things.”

…

Sam has always and will always hate the panic room.

However, he will give Bobby credit for somehow managing to spring the trap in less than three days and being so casual in his sending Sam right into it.

Now, all he has to do is get out and disappear before Dean comes back with his soul.

…

Unfortunately, Death is absurdly powerful, and the trio is back in less than ten minutes.

With a shotgun pointed, Bobby orders, “Stand down, son.”

Dean gently places his hand on the box Cas is holding. “This is your soul. I looked at it. It was worse than Adam’s.”

Trying to figure out the best way to take all three down, he starts, “Dean-”

“If you ever use me as bait, again, if you ever hurt Bobby or Cas, I will kill you. You’re not my brother, and you never will be. But I can’t let you be out there on your own, or worse, with people like Samuel. So, you keep your promise to stay, okay?”

“Okay.” He refuses to let his guard down.

Sighing, Dean turns. “Cas, guard Sammy with your life, okay? 

“I will.”

“If he’s better up there- if he’s happy, come tell me, okay? Don’t talk to him. Don’t let him think about me, the me down here. Just, if he can’t be fixed, if he’s not happy, come tell me. I’ll find a way.” 

“We’ll find a way,” Cas corrects.

Then, he and the box are gone.

“If Bobby lowers his gun, are you going to stand down?”

“Yeah,” Sam promises. “What about Adam?”

“Balthazar took him.”

…

“Sam,” Cas greets. He looks over at where Dean is sleeping.  “Why is there only one bed?”

“We’re doing separate rooms. I’m just in here because mine has a crappy Wi-Fi connection. Haven’t seen you for a week.”

“I’ve talked to Dean and Bobby. Both your soul and Adam are doing well. How are you?”

“The same as ever,” he answers. “Dean seems fine, but I’m probably the last person who could give an accurate reading.”

“You truly have become an abomination.”

“I was made that way by your former business partner.”

There’s a rustle of wings and trench coat.

…

Dean rubs his eyes. “Did you spend all night in here?”

“Two hours last night, and two hours this morning,” Sam answers. “I took a shower in my room. Take yours while I go on a coffee run.”

“Don’t ruin your eyes, reading in the dark,” Dean says. “Hey, strange question, but was Cas here last night? I thought I heard him.”

“He talked to me for a few minutes.”

“Alright.”

…

Once Dean is ready, he says, “C’mon, Samuel. Time to go gank a psychotic ghost.”

“Right behind you.”

In the car, Dean asks, “So, is this your happy ending?”

“I’m sorry about your brother, Dean. Truly, I am. I know how much you hated making that choice. If it’s any consolation, unlike him, living in literal paradise, I don’t think I’m ever destined for a happy ending. I’ll do this job until I die. I’ll do it because it’s the only thing that gives me any sense of purpose. But you, if you let yourself, you have purpose besides your little brother. You have people to live for. You have something worth fighting for.”

“Yeah, and yet, we both know the chances of that being enough- I don’t think there’s a happy ending for me, either.”

“So, what?”

“So, we go gank this ghost, we call Bobby, and tonight, you come with me and Cas. It’s time you join the war, Samuel. We’ve almost got Raphael’s first lieutenant.”  

“Tell me about them.”

“A baby sister of Uriel’s. Her name’s Bessandra, and I call her Bessie, because, it pisses her off. She’s gotten a lot of the cupids on her side.”

“I thought most of them were apolitical, so to speak.”

Wincing, Dean makes a slight hissing noise. “Cas and I- We’re trying to get her on our side. See, apparently, God really didn’t give a crap about marriage and gay things. He only cared about the bad things like rape and hurting kids, all that stuff that people actually deserved to be turned to salt for. It turns out, though, some of the higher angels decided, for whatever reason, to try to enforce sexual purity and all that bull in humans. They drastically redefined how the cupids handled things, and the cupids have never liked that. Raphael’s promising that, once the apocalypse comes, they can do what they used to do with the new humans born in paradise.”

“Sounds good, but, uh, Cas killed her big brother, and you actively try to piss her off.”

“Technically, Anna killed Uriel.”

“Yeah, but didn’t Cas go after Uriel with the intent to kill him?”

“I don’t know, but that doesn’t matter. Bessie wasn’t close to Uriel, and it turns out, beyond that, they had vastly different ideas. Life philosophies, I guess you could say. When he was alive, she had no chance of getting what she wanted. Now, she does. Of course, she’s partly using his name to do it, but it serves the bastard right, if you ask me.”

“Anyway, Uriel didn’t care much about sexual purity, but while cupids used to choose people based on them being actual soulmates, he wanted people chosen on the basis of, uh, genetics and stuff. The people he didn’t want having babies were put with someone it was unlikely they would, and people who’d make ‘desirable’ babies were put together and given the urge.”

“Angel mandated eugenics, wonderful,” Sam says. He wonders if John and Mary were soulmates or, if like the cupid they met had more-or-less implied, they were strictly put together for angelic plans. 

“Cas doesn’t think there will be anymore babies born if Raphael wins. He thinks the cupids will all be retired, one way or another. If we convince Bessie of that, I’m pretty sure she’ll switch to our side.”

“How do we do that?”

“This is the part I hate,” Dean says. “See, our best bet might be not to convince her of that, exactly, but to…”


End file.
